


Sting like a bee

by tinyarmedtrex



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Meeting, Ballet Dancer Adam, K as Ronan's ex, K is his own warning, M/M, Noah as a sorta wingman, and Ronan cant do any of them, boxer ronan, but it works out, but mostly there to tease Ronan, non magical au, so many ballet poses, they don't really get along at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/pseuds/tinyarmedtrex
Summary: Ronan has always had one dream- to be a professional boxer. When his coach recommends that he takes ballet to make that happen he thinks it sounds like the worst idea ever but eventually agrees. That's how he meets Adam Parrish, professional ballet dancer and a pain in his ass.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 105
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

“Ronan! Your footwork is sloppy! Lift your goddamn heel!” 

Ronan whirled around, mouth already in a sneer as he faced his trainer. “I am fucking trying Samuel, let me live.”

The man shook his head, immune to Ronan’s anger and dirty looks. “No, not with that fucking footwork. We’ve been working on this for the last month and you haven’t improved at all!”

“Because I’m tired!” Ronan roared, going to the corner of the ring and crawling out. “This sucks. No one will notice my heel in the ring.” He jumped down and grabbed his water bottle, squirting it into his mouth as Samuel shook his head. 

“Your opponent will notice. Noah, did you notice?” 

Ronan’s friend dropped out of the ring with noticeably less grace than Ronan. “No, I was trying to avoid that right hook.” 

“See?” Ronan said, wiping off his sweat. 

“Noah isn’t the best example.” Samuel said, watching as Noah struggled to remove his gloves. 

Ronan had to agree there. Even though Noah was his closest friend, he wasn’t the ideal opponent in the ring. He was unfocused, usually getting distracted and telling jokes instead of actually boxing but Ronan needed another human to practice with and Noah was usually free. 

Samuel turned back to Ronan, crossing his arms. “Do you want to make it into the contest this year or not?”

“You fucking know I do.” 

Samuel nodded, looking pleased for the first time all day. For as long as he could remember, all Ronan wanted was to become a professional boxer. He’d been training since he was a kid, first in the ring with his dad and then with others as he got older. The only issue was that he was never quite good enough to make it into the annual contest. From there he could get scouted, maybe get an agent. They only accepted fifty ameatur boxers and Ronan had never made the cut. This year though, he was determined. It would be his fifth year trying out and he decided that if he didn’t make it this time, he was giving up and finding another dream. That was why he’d hired Samuel, the best trainer he could afford. He had ten months to get good enough to make it in, ten months to achieve his dream. No fucking pressure. 

“Then I have a suggestion that you’re going to hate but I want you to consider before saying no.” 

Ronan scowled at him but gave a sharp nod.

“Take ballet.”

“Fuck no.” He said as Noah started laughing and subsequently choking on his water.

Samuel only sighed. “I knew you’d say that. But Ronan, your footwork is heavy and ballet will help. I’ve seen it work before, guys are able to practically fly around the ring after a few lessons.” 

“I’m not going to wear a fucking tutu and prance around.”

Noah snorted, “Why not? You’d look great with all the little kids.” Ronan flipped him off as Samuel continued talking. 

“Ronan, you hired me to help you improve. This is how we’re going to do it- it’ll give you an edge that other guys don’t have. If you want this as much as you claim then you need to at least consider it. I already know someone that you could work with.” Ronan opened his mouth to reply again but Samuel held up a hand. “Go home, sleep on it. You can tell me to fuck off again tomorrow.” 

Ronan knew he was being dismissed. He bit back another reply and left, throwing himself into his car and cranking his music to drown out his thoughts. He hated how poorly this was going. He couldn’t move like he knew he needed to and it pissed him off. As he drove, he couldn’t get Samuel’s words out of his head, actually thinking about them. The idea of having some ninety pound ballerina teaching him how to leap over the floor still seemed ridiculous but he wanted this, he needed it. 

By the time he was laying in bed, he knew his answer.

He called Samuel first thing the next morning, reluctantly telling him that he’d love to meet his ballet friend. Samuel was delighted by Ronan’s change of heart and told him that he wouldn’t regret it. His joy nearly made Ronan back out of it again. 

“I called him,” Samuel said later that day when they were practicing. “He’s going to come watch later.”

“Remind me what the hell this guy knows about boxing.” Ronan said, hitting the speed bag with more fury. Knowing that it was a guy didn’t make him feel any better, in fact it almost made it worse. 

“Nothing. But he knows about footwork. And dodging. Both things you need to work on. Now give me a mile run.” 

With a grunt, Ronan turned on his heel, sprinting out the door and down the block. As he ran, he reminded himself that this was worth it, this was his goal. He wanted to get into the competition, maybe even win it, and this would help. He turned the one mile run into two, needing the time alone. 

When he got back, someone was talking to Samuel. The man was slightly shorter than Ronan with dusty brown hair. He was slim and something about how he stood made Ronan think he was perpetually tired. Part of it was probably the huge coffee in his hand but there was something about him that suggested a general weariness.

“Ronan! Towel off and come meet Adam.” 

He grabbed a towel, rubbing it over his head before throwing it over his shoulder. As he walked over, Adam watched him. The look made Ronan want to slow down. He felt like he already had to prove something so on his way, he punched the dummy, knocking it flat on the floor.

“I see what you mean.” Adam remarked once Ronan stood in front of him.“No grace.”

“Fuck you,” He snarled.

“No manners either.” Samuel said, fixing Ronan with a look. “Ronan, he’s here to help you. Try to tone down the asshole-ness to a four. Adam, Ronan. Ronan, Adam.” 

Adam held out a hand that Ronan reluctantly shook. He felt Adam’s eyes travel over him, lingering on his biceps and tattoo. The tattoo wasn’t a surprise- everyone stared at it, it was a conversation piece that Ronan never wanted to talk about. But the bicep- maybe there was more to Adam than he thought.

“Can I watch you box?” Adam asked. Ronan thought about refusing but knew that that was the point of all this. 

“Sure.” He crawled in the ring, holding the ropes for Samuel. “What do you know about boxing?” He asked, jogging in place to warm up a bit.

“Not much.” Adam admitted. “But I know how to move like a butterfly.” 

Ronan smirked at the reference before turning to Samuel. “Can you still box, old timer?”

The other man chuckled, tying up his gloves. “Don’t worry about me.”

After tying their gloves and putting in mouth guards, the two started circling each other, Adam crossing his arms and watching. Ronan couldn’t let himself think about that though. He focused on Samuel. Even though the man was retired, Ronan knew that he was wily- and had a mean right hook. He took an experimental step in and Samuel doged, smirking at him.

“Don’t play with me, son,” He said, “I’m too old for it.” On his last word, he stepped in and Ronan narrowly dodged the punch, dancing back. Both of them were smiling now, enjoying the dance that was boxing. They threw some fake jabs, testing the waters before Samuel finally stepped in, throwing a quick jab punch combo. Ronan managed to dodge the jab but the punch hit him in the jaw. He heard a hiss from Adam and decided it was time to go on the offensive. He moved in, a quick punch then a hook, hitting Samuel on the side. He got a few hits in before Samuel started coming for him and forced him back. Before he knew it, he was on the ropes and Samuel was backing off, gloves raised. 

“I’ve still got some tricks.” Samuel said, grinning. 

“I let you win.” Ronan told him, using his glove to wipe his sweat. That was his story and he was sticking to it. Then he turned to Adam. “Well?”

“You’ll never be a dancer.” Adam said. “But I can help you be a better boxer.”

“By the time the qualifying rounds start?”

“That depends on how well you can listen.”

Samuel laughed. “Well you’re fucked.” 

Ronan shoved him then turned to Adam. “I’m in, let’s do this.” He’d already decided and he didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about it and he liked that Adam seemed to have some bite. Ronan needed that, it had been one of the main reasons he’d picked Samuel. 

“We’ll start now.” Adam said, walking to the ring and crawling in. It was amazingly graceful and Ronan couldn’t help but stare as he came through the ropes. The man bent in half with no issues, barely touching the ropes. “I’m going to focus on your footwork. We’ll start with the basics.” 

“Don’t I need some of those stupid shoes?” He asked, looking down at Adam’s bare feet. He’d kicked off his shoes at some point and was now standing near Ronan in his tights with shorts pulled over them. 

“No, it’s better without them. Your balance is better without them and you need all the grounding you can get.” Adam said with a small smirk, continuing before Ronan could reply. “We’re going to start with first position.” Adam moved so his heels were pressed together, toes pointing out almost horizontally. It looked painful. Ronan didn’t move. 

“You need to copy me.” Adam chided, looking at Ronan’s feet.

“I can’t fucking do that.”

“But you can try.” 

Ronan pressed his lips into a thin line. “Fine.” He pressed his heels together and tried moving them out like Adam’s. Except, unlike Adam, he fell as soon as he tried. Adam reached out immediately, grabbing Ronan’s forearms. 

“This is why we give kids the bar.” He said, his eyes laughing but mouth pressed in a firm line. “Try again.” 

Ronan bit back a rude response as he tried again, Adam still holding onto him. He made it a little farther but not much. 

“Okay, we’ll try third position. This is easier.” Adam moved one foot in front of the other, ankles aligned but feet not touching. It was true, it did look easier but as Ronan tried it he was grateful that Adam was still holding him because he nearly fell again. 

“Why are we skipping second?” He grumbled, wanting to pull his hands back but deciding not to. He knew he’d fall without them. Adam’s hands were wrapped on his forearms and Ronan’s hands were the same, the two of them gripping each other. Ronan could feel the calluses on them. He wondered if Adam could feel his, too. He had been doing trail training, doing burpees or pushups on the cement and it had cut up his hands. He hadn’t even thought about it until then because no one ever touched his hands. 

Until now.

“Because I wanted to give you a win.” Adam said, smiling at him and moving his feet again. His ankles were several inches apart, toes pointed out. It was like first position but much easier. “If you can’t do this one, I’m refunding your money.”

“I can do this one.” He said, moving his feet to match Adam’s. He lacked any of Adam’s grace but at least he could do the move. 

“Congratulations, you’re as talented as a five year old.” Adam said, stepping back and dropping his hold. Ronan tried not to feel disappointed. He looked around, noticing for the first time that Samuel had left the ring. He was in the corner, yelling at someone on his phone. 

“Now for tendu.” Adam lifted a leg and, pointing his toe down, arched his leg up and down, keeping his toe pointed and arm stretched out. Ronan knew it was a simple move but it was surprisingly elegant. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” He grumbled, trying to copy the action. Except that his foot didn’t move like Adam’s, it wasn’t smooth at all. When he tried, he got a cramp and swore loudly, making the other man laugh. 

“You’ll need to practice.” Adam said. “It won’t come in a day. Let’s do some plies.” He went to first position then bent his knees and straightened them, his arm following his legs up and down. 

“Do I have to do the arm thing?” He asked, trying to watch Adam without staring. He’d never seen a man so graceful. Ronan found himself wondering how Adam looked when he really danced, leaping and moving across a stage. 

“I’d love it if you did. It helps the flow.” 

“I think you just want me to look dumb.” 

Adam smirked and shrugged. Even the shrug was elegant. “It can be both.” 

“Fuck. Fine.” Ronan tried to copy Adam’s foot and arm work but Adam tsked as he did. 

“Here,” Adam moved behind him, pressing himself against Ronan and taking his arm. “Like this.” He lifted his arm, bringing Ronan’s up too. “See? Softly. You move like you’re trying to murder someone.”

“Maybe I am.” He grunted but he did feel the difference. His arm moved slowly, gently, instead of just flailing. 

“Well, you’ll be murdering with grace by the time I’m done with you.” Adam said from behind him. He was still pressed flush to Ronan and now he kicked Ronan’s feet out, positioning them until they were to his satisfaction. 

“Now, bend.” Adam’s other arm wrapped around his waist, fingertips splayed over his stomach as he bent his knees, bringing them both down then back up. 

“God, at least buy me dinner first.” Ronan mumbled, glad that Adam was behind him so he couldn’t see his blush. He wasn’t one for casual touch. For Ronan, touch meant something, especially like this, the two of them flush together. He hadn't been this close to someone since his ex and that hadn’t ended well. 

“You’re paying me to help you. This is the fastest way.” Adam replied, his breath hitting Ronan’s neck. 

That was his breaking point. He didn’t want that, whatever Adam was doing. It was too much. 

He wrenched himself away, shaking his head. “Just fucking tell me what to do. Don’t manhandle me. Can’t you use your fucking words?” 

Adam looked at him like he was trying to understand something. Ronan’s frown deepened, hating the feeling that he was being examined. Then Adam nodded, putting his hands up. “Fine, no more touching. But you still need to try the plie.” He demonstrated again and, begrudgingly Ronan followed suit, grabbing onto the rope to stop from falling. They spent ten long minutes doing this, bending their legs and raising arms. 

“How the fuck is this going to help me?” Ronan barked, frustrated. He knew he wasn’t doing well and watching Adam do it wasn’t giving him any confidence that he ever could. “I’m not even moving. This won’t help me be light on my feet.” 

“You need to learn the basics before you can dance.” Adam replied matter of factly. Ronan’s mood wasn’t improved by the fact that he was sweating, his tank clinging to him, and Adam didn’t even have one drop of sweat. He was in shape, he knew that, but that was something totally different, something he sucked at. There was nothing Ronan hated more than failing at something. 

“Pointing my toes and doing fucked up squats won’t help me win.” Ronan grumbled, still following Adam’s lead. 

“Fine.” Adam stopped, grabbing a towel and dabbing his forehead. “Practice those moves and then next time we can start moving. But you at least need to learn those before we can do anything else.” 

Ronan was still skeptical that this could work. It seemed unlikely that anything this other man taught him could actually help him. The moves had nothing to do with boxing, he’d be laughed out of the ring if he tried any of them. Adam seemed to sense his hesitation, he crossed his arms and looked at Ronan. “Do you want to meet again?”

He wanted to refuse but he could practically hear Samuel in his head, chiding him for giving up so quickly, asking if he really wanted this or if he was a quitter. He’d try anything to make his dream happen, no matter how crazy. 

So he asked, “When are you free?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam was watching him, hands on his hips. “You need a massage followed by a hot bath. You’re useless until then.” He thought for a second. “That’s probably why you haven’t progressed yet. Because your muscles are all too tense and competing for attention instead of listening to the moves.”
> 
> He bit back a retort about how that didn’t make sense. “Okay. I’ll ask Samuel. Or Noah.”

“Why do you move like you’re made of stone? Be honest. Do you even have muscles and tendons or are you just filled with gravel?” Adam asked, shaking his head at Ronan’s attempt to do a plie.

“Maybe it’s because my teacher is nitpicky and rude.” He growled back, trying the move again with a similar result. He could feel Adam smiling behind him, his hands itching to go to Ronan’s back and correct the movement. Ronan flicked his eyes up, watching Adam in the mirror, how his mouth was a thin line, trying not to smile, how he stood just out of reach. It was frustrating and endearing at the same time. Ronan forced himself to look back at the mirror, ignoring the heat in his stomach that had nothing to do with the damn ballet move. 

It was his fourth session with Adam and, as Adam would be quick to point out, there had been no improvement. Ronan didn’t feel any more flexible, even though he was doing the damn stretches and movements twice a day. The only noticeable difference was that he was sore all the time. It made him cranky and everyone noticed.

“No, that’s not it.” Adam put his finger to his lips, a common trait for him that Ronan hated. Because it made him notice Adam’s lips, how firm and full they were, how-

“Try this.” Adam said, interrupting his thoughts. Adam went to the bar and grabbed it, bending at his waist until his head was even with the bar, his feet flat on the floor. “See how straight my back is? Like this?” Adam looked in the mirror, checking that Ronan was watching him. Ronan wished he could say that that was no issue. He was always watching Adam, especially now that they had every session in front of this damn wall length mirror. 

After the second session, Adam insisted on training in his studio, saying that he wanted Ronan to see what he was doing. They had to meet late at night, after the last class ended. It was a small studio and Adam was clearly comfortable in it. Ronan had watched him say extended goodbyes to the students, offering last minute tips to people and chatting with parents. It impressed him, how well Adam ran the small space. He seemed to be one of the only teachers there, doing everything on his own, including cleaning and maintenance. 

“Fine.” He grabbed the bar, bending down. He made it about halfway before he hissed, his lower back protesting loudly at the movement. 

“You’re too tense.” Adam said, shaking his head. “You need a massage.” 

“Yea, let me just call my masseuse- oh wait, I don’t have one because I’m not a fucking rich bastard.” 

Adam rolled his eyes, stepping closer. Ronan still hadn’t gotten over how Adam moved, how fluid and elegant it was. “You know you don’t always have to pay to be touched.” Adam said, stopping next to him. He always stopped a little too close. Ronan had stopped telling him to stay back. He assumed it was part of his training, that Adam was used to being close to his students so he could grab them if they fell or offer a hand if they needed it. 

He was about to ask if that was a sex joke when Adam’s hands went to his lower back, kneading his sore muscles. He yelped and jumped back, shaking his head. 

“We talked about this.” Adam had touched him a few times, adjusting his stance or telling him to relax, but overall he had kept his hands to himself, which Ronan appreciated. He already constantly thought about how Adam’s hands would feel on him, he didn’t need to know the reality of it. 

He had hoped that his initial attraction to Adam would wane, that maybe an easier emotion would replace it- lust or hate- but no. Instead, Ronan had gotten to know the man more and found that he could match Ronan quip for quip, that he never got mad about Ronan’s angry words, instead finding them amusing. And he was smart. He was the whole damn package and Ronan was not allowed to touch him. He knew that he was paying Adam, nothing more, and falling for the man would only end badly for him. 

Adam was watching him, hands on his hips. “You need a massage followed by a hot bath. You’re useless until then.” He thought for a second. “That’s probably why you haven’t progressed yet. Because your muscles are all too tense and competing for attention instead of listening to the moves.”

He bit back a retort about how that didn’t make sense. “Okay. I’ll ask Samuel. Or Noah.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly stating what he thought about that. “Lynch.” 

Ronan set his jaw, ready to shake his head. This was a bad idea, being alone with Adam in the studio was one thing. Being alone while Adam touched him- he’d never be able to stop thinking about him then. 

But he couldn’t deny Adam. Even if the smart part of his brain told him to say no, the rest of him had already give in.

“Fine.” He bent down, planning to lay on the floor. 

“Stop.” Adam directed. “If we’re doing this, let’s do it right. Come up to my apartment.” 

“Your - you live here?” Ronan asked as Adam nodded. 

“It’s cheap and close. Come on, I have a mat you can lie on. It will be better for your hips.” 

That was how he found himself following Adam outside and up a flight of stairs he’d never noticed before. They entered a small but tidy apartment, sparsely decorated. It didn’t feel like a home, the studio seemed to have more personal touches than the apartment. 

“Stretch. I’ll make you some tea.” Adam said, wandering over to the kitchen and leaving him in the living room. Ronan wandered around, turning his head to read the spines of books and examining the hung photos. There weren’t many photos of people, most were of scenery, looking like they were taken from magazines. 

“Is that your girlfriend?” He asked when Adam returned, pointing to the only photo collage with people. There was a variety of people in it but a black woman featured prominently, usually with an arm slung around Adam. 

“That’s Blue.” He replied, handing Ronan a chipped mug. 

Ronan decided not to point out that that didn’t answer his question as he sipped the tea, wishing it had some whiskey in it. He watched as Adam wrangled a mat out of a corner, placing it in the center of the room.

“Lie on your stomach.” Adam directed. Then, after a second, added, “And take off your shirt. It’ll be easier.”

“At least buy me dinner first.” Ronan mumbled, doing as he was told. The plastic was cold against his skin but he ignored it, trying to get comfortable. A second later, he felt Adam straddling him, sitting on his lower back, and Ronan knew it would be impossible. 

“Relax.” Adam said, running his hands over Ronan’s back, mapping it out. “You’re like a coiled spring.” 

Ronan tried, he did, but all he could think about was Adam’s weight on his back and his hands on Ronan’s bare skin. 

“Take a deep breath. In.” Adam did it too, encouraging Ronan to breathe with him. He tried, breathing in as deeply as he could. 

“And out.” Air wooshed out of Ronan and then Adam’s hands were on him again. “Better.” Adam declared as Ronan fought not to tense again. He focused on his breathing as Adam pressed his thumbs into Ronan’s shoulder blades. Ronan couldn’t stop the hiss of pain.

“Your back is all knots.” Adam said, pressing harder. “How did you even do this?”

“I sleep on a pile of rocks.”

The other man laughed. “You know, I believe that.” Ronan didn’t say anything more, letting Adam’s hands work their magic. Adam’s hands were rough like his but strong and sure as they mapped out his back, finding all the knots and working each of them individually. They didn’t speak, which Ronan was grateful for. He was trying to ignore his current circumstance, knowing he was far too close to fucking everything up. The last thing he wanted was to seem like he enjoyed this too much, being spread out under Adam as his hands ran over him but Ronan knew he’d dream about this for weeks. 

He was able to stay quiet until Adam moved to his lower back.

“Fuck man.” It felt like he was raw there, Adam’s touch hurt so much more than the rest of his back. 

“You’re tender.” Adam said, his press lighter now. 

“Yea, tender and soft. That’s me.” He said, his breath hitching again as Adam moved to a new spot. Ronan had never realized how much his back hurt. Occasionally, when it got too bad, he iced it but that was about it. Otherwise, he ignored the pain, deciding it was part of his life and that he would deal. 

Adam’s hands continued to move, slow circles on his skin. “What’s your day job?” 

“Handyman. Random shit like building porches and fixing cabinets.”

“So you’re in strange positions all day.”

The words him blush and he was thankful to be facedown in the mat. Adam had a unique talent for making that happen and Ronan had no idea if it was on purpose. “I wouldn’t call them strange.” He muttered once it was clear that Adam was waiting for a reply. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” 

“I could repair some things around the studio for you. As a thank you.” He’d noticed the broken molding and the broken light bulb that was a little too high to reach. Ronan had been meaning to offer for weeks but he knew Adam would try to pay him; the man seemed incapable of accepting something for nothing, but Ronan didn’t want money, he just wanted to help Adam. 

“Repairs for the massage?” Adam asked. Ronan could tell that he was considering it, weighing whether the two were equal or if Adam would end up in the red. Ronan stayed quiet, letting him decide. 

“Okay.” Adam finally agreed. “That seems fair.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that Adam was going to let him help. “Good. We’ll figure out what projects later.” Ronan already had four or five in his mind that he was determined to do, regardless of what Adam said.

Adam continued to work his back, fingers grazing near the start of Ronan’s sweatpants, the curve of his ass. More than once, his breath caught when he was sure that Adam was going to slip under the elastic band but he always stopped. The closest he got was the dimples in Ronan’s back, both his thumbs pressing into them. That was more than enough, Ronan was rock hard by the time Adam was done, trying not to move so he didn’t accidentally press into the floor. 

“Now you take a bath.” Adam said, crawling off of him. 

“No way.” Ronan didn’t stand, pretending to stretch on the ground. He had no idea how long he could stay there but he wasn’t about to get up. 

“If you don’t your muscles will just be shit again tomorrow.” He heard Adam move to another room and quickly Ronan stood, moving in front of a well placed side table. 

“Do you have a bathtub?” Adam called from the kitchen. He didn’t reply, trying to think of anything unsexy- his brother’s girlfriends, soggy french fries, those weird small dogs that people put in purses. Anything other than Adam’s thighs on his ass, his hands brushing his sweatpants. 

“I’ll take your silence as a no.” Adam said, popping his head back out and looking sternly at Ronan. “Go take a damn bath. I’m not going to steal your wallet. There’s even bubble bath you can use. Blue bought it for me, it’s supposed to calm people down.”

In another circumstance, he would have quipped about how well Blue understood Adam but now wasn’t the time. The last thing he wanted was Adam coming back into the room so he moved, his hands covering himself as he looked for the bathroom. There were only two doors and the first one opened to a plain bedroom. Ronan quickly moved to the second, seeing an ancient looking tub with bubble bath balancing on the side. 

Still trying to think about anything other than his current circumstances, Ronan shed the rest of his clothes, drawing a hot bath and adding bubbles. He realized too late that he’d used too much and was soon surrounded by bubbles. They were nice though and Ronan felt himself relaxing into the water. He had no idea how long he was supposed to stay in but he was sure Adam would yell at him if he left too soon. 

Ronan sank down, closing his eyes and slowly counting to one hundred. That felt like long enough to be naked in a relative stranger’s bathtub. Soon he lost track, instead looking around the room and realizing how little he actually knew about Adam. The man was tight lipped about his personal life, not that Ronan had asked but usually people told him, rambling on about siblings or parents. So far, Adam had offered no details. It made him curious, which Ronan hated. 

Normally he didn’t care, in fact he preferred not to know how many pets people had or the names of their best friend but with Adam, he wanted those details. He wanted to know everything about him, from the smallest scar to his hopes and dreams. He’d never felt such an all consuming desire to know someone else. 

“Shit.” He muttered, submerging himself under the water in a futile attempt to wash away his feelings. He was too old for this, for a crush. It was like having one on your hot math teacher, someone close but totally unobtainable. Ronan couldn’t afford it, not now, not on Adam. 

A knock on the door startled him. “Ronan? Do you want to come out? I made some food.” 

“Sure.” He called back, rubbing his hands over his head. Staying here and eating with Adam was foolish, stupid, but he knew there was no chance he was going to leave. He drained the tub then toweled off as quickly as he could, pulling his sweaty clothes back on.

“How do you feel?” Adam asked as Ronan emerged. 

“Fine.” He actually felt a lot better but didn’t want to tell Adam, concerned this could become a regular thing. 

Adam leaned in, his nose near Ronan’s neck. “You smell like lavender. You may have used too much bubble bath.”

Ronan prayed that he wasn’t bright red but then Adam grabbed his hand, examining his fingers. “But you aren’t pruny yet. I always end up pruned.” 

Adam held his hand a beat too long and Ronan was sure his heart stopped. Then Adam released him, saying, “Come on, you need to eat- and drink some water.” 

“Do you do this for all your students?” He asked, following him closely. Ronan couldn’t help it, he felt a constant pull towards Adam, like there was an invisible tether between them. 

“No.” Was all Adam said as he sat cross legged on the couch, pulling his coffee table closer. The mystery of Adam grew deeper. Ronan wanted badly to delve in but stopped himself, knowing he wouldn’t be able to come back up for air if he did. 

Instead, he looked at the small plate of food and frowned. 

“This is your dinner?” Ronan asked, sitting as far from Adam as he could while still being able to reach the food- tuna and crackers. “This is what stray cats eat.”

“It’s cheap and filling.” Adam replied, scooping some onto a cracker. “Contrary to popular belief, dancers aren’t millionaires.” 

Ronan swallowed another teasing jab, hearing the bitterness in Adam’s voice. “I can make you better shit than this for the same price.”

Adam’s head turned towards him. “Are you offering to make me dinner?” 

“No. Yes. I’m offering to give you something better than cat scraps.” He fumbled over the words while trying to decide if it sounded too much like a date. 

“Well. I’d like that.” Adam replied, unaware of Ronan’s internal screaming. “Though I am partial to my cat food.” He said it with a smile, one that made Ronan’s heart jackhammer in his chest. 

Ronan left soon after that. He ate one cracker then begged off, saying he needed to get home. It was true, he had a cat to feed and thoughts to overthink. As he went outside, he pulled out his phone to check his messages, something he never used to do until Samuel threatened to leave if he didn’t return his calls. One was from Noah and it was mostly him making kissing noises and moaning into the phone. Ronan deleted it immediately. There was one from work confirming a new job. The final one was from Samuel telling Ronan to call him back.

“What?” Ronan asked as he fell into his car, the familiar leathery smell setting him back at ease. 

“Great to talk to you too, Ronan.” Samuel said. “Where have you been? I called you hours ago.”

_ I fell through the looking glass and into Adam’s apartment, _ Ronan thought. Outloud, he said, “With Parrish. Like you told me to be.”

Samuel hummed. “Spending a lot of time with him.”

“For the competition. You know, that thing I pay you to help me with.” 

“About that. We got the line up.” Ronan sat up a little straighter. They still had months until the competition began but the hype for it started early, including who everyone was against for their scrimish matches, the ones to qualify for the real event. 

“And?” 

“And-” Samuel paused and Ronan’s hands flexed on the wheel. He hadn’t put the keys in yet but he was tense, ready to go from 0 to 60 just based on the tone Samuel had. 

“K signed up. You aren’t fighting him but he’ll be there to qualify, same night as you.” 

Everything stopped. Ronan didn’t breathe. Samuel didn’t speak. The world stopped spinning. 

Ronan hadn’t seen K since they broke up. Since the night when he finally decided he had to get out, that he couldn’t continue with what they had anymore. K had let him pack a bag and leave, not saying a word, probably expecting him to be back before breakfast. They hadn’t spoken since, K never asked him to come back or to see him one last time. K always said he didn’t beg, he didn’t look for people. People looked for him, that was the way it had always been. 

“Ronan? You there? Can you handle this?” Samuel sounded worried. “Should I call Noah?” 

“I’ve got to go.” Ronan hung up and jammed his keys in the ignition. The car roared to life and he sped off, leaving rubber streaks on the road. He didn’t let himself think about what he was trying to get away from- K or Adam. In that moment, both felt equally dangerous, one in his past and both in his future. 

He raced through the city, ignoring red lights until finally he was on the open highway and free to go as fast as he wanted. Only then did he let himself breathe again, taking halting breaths as he edged his car to 90, 100, finally feeling safe as he sped dangerously fast down the road. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam: Wow Ronan you look tired, you should stay here  
> Ronan, internally: Why is this man torturing me? I have never been more awake in my life


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want?” 
> 
> The rude approach wasn’t working. Adam just popped his hip, looking unimpressed. 
> 
> “You missed our last two sessions. I came to make sure you weren’t dead.”
> 
> “How sweet.”
> 
> “Not really. You still owe me for the last session.”
> 
> Somehow, Ronan didn’t think that Adam was talking about the dance lesson. He chose to ignore that though, walking past Adam and to the locker room. Adam followed, still waiting for some sort of reason.
> 
> “I’ve been busy, Parrish.” Ronan said. “Some of us have jobs and shit.”
> 
> “Sure.” 
> 
> He opened his locker, grabbing a towel and heading to the showers. Adam still followed, leaning against the shower door as Ronan turned on one of the shower heads.
> 
> “Are you going to watch me shower like a perv?”
> 
> “Are you going to talk to me like an adult?” 

Ronan missed his next lesson with Adam. And the one after that. He knew it wasn’t the most mature response but he didn’t care. Ignoring Adam’s calls and texts was easier than confronting his growing feelings for the other man. He hadn’t thought about anyone like this since K and that- that had been a fucking disaster. He couldn’t go through that again. 

His punches flew faster as he thought about K. Ronan had spent years with him, following K around like a fucking lovesick puppy, always thinking that eventually K would finally choose him over the drugs or boxing or whatever his newest high was. 

He never did. It had taken Noah and his brothers to help Ronan finally see that. They’d talked to him about it over the years but Ronan had told them to fuck off. It wasn’t until K finally raised his hand one day, striking Ronan across the face and splitting his lip, that he realized things would never change. He left that night and he had never looked back. 

Ronan’s knuckles were starting to hurt from the punching. He knew they would be bloody when he took off his wraps but it didn’t stop him. Nothing made sense except boxing, throwing one punch after the other, watching the bag swing back and forth. That was all there was. That was all he needed. 

“What did the poor bag do to you?” Someone asked behind him. 

Ronan spun, his chest heaving and guard still up. He’d been alone in the gym. Samuel had tried to talk to him earlier but had given up after the second ‘fuck off’. He hadn’t expected anyone else to come, or to try and talk to him if they did. 

It was Adam, looking elegant as always, like a lily, long stemmed and beautiful. Somehow it made him even angrier. Ronan knew he looked like shit. He hadn’t been sleeping and he was covered in sweat. Next to Adam, he probably looked like a drowned rat. 

“This is a private studio.” Ronan growled, making no move to take off his gloves or move. If he was enough of a dick to Adam, maybe he’d leave, finally get the message that Ronan wasn’t worth it, that he was a bomb waiting to explode. No one should be in the blast radius when he did. 

Rather than leaving, Adam stepped forward, watching him. “We both know that Samuel likes me more than you.” Adam said, crossing his arms. 

Ronan didn’t reply, instead rubbing his towel over his face. When he looked up, he was a little annoyed to see that Adam was still there. 

“What do you want?” 

The rude approach wasn’t working. Adam just popped his hip, looking unimpressed. 

“You missed our last two sessions. I came to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“How sweet.”

“Not really. You still owe me for the last session.”

Somehow, Ronan didn’t think that Adam was talking about the dance lesson. He chose to ignore that though, walking past Adam and to the locker room. Adam followed, still waiting for some sort of reason.

“I’ve been busy, Parrish.” Ronan said. “Some of us have jobs and shit.”

“Sure.” 

He opened his locker, grabbing a towel and heading to the showers. Adam still followed, leaning against the shower door as Ronan turned on one of the shower heads.

“Are you going to watch me shower like a perv?”

“Are you going to talk to me like an adult?” 

Ronan gritted his teeth, looking at Adam. He was utterly composed, unflappable. It was irritating as hell. 

“Maybe I decided I can do it on my own.” Ronan finally said, hating himself for pushing Adam away. But it was the safest option. Flowers aren’t safe around bombs. 

They regarded each other for what seemed like a long time. Ronan let himself look at Adam, knowing that this was probably the last time he’d see the other man. 

Then Adam surprised him. 

“No.” He said, shaking his head.

“No?” Ronan repeated, confused.

“You can’t do it on your own. And I think you know that. Your qualifier is in four weeks. I thought you wanted this.” 

“Why do you care?” Adam was right, annoyingly so, but Ronan didn’t want to admit it. 

Adam’s expression was a little disappointed, like he couldn’t believe Ronan didn’t know. But he didn’t say anything, just shook his head. It made Ronan want to tear his hair out. But Adam clearly wasn’t planning on explaining himself. And he wasn’t leaving either. Ronan wasn’t used to this, to people sticking around. Most people didn’t bother. Ronan knew he shouldn’t give up on someone who did. 

Ronan threw his hands up. “Fuck. Fine. When are you free again?” He asked.

“Now?” Adam looked him over. “You’re already sweaty.” 

Ronan wanted to protest but didn’t have any reason to. Adam had already made the drive over. So he nodded, following Adam back out into the training area. 

“Let’s see how much you’ve forgotten. First position.” 

Ronan pressed his heels together, circling his arms near his hips. When he didn’t wobble at all, Adam raised an eyebrow. 

“You’ve been practicing.”

“Just because I haven't seen you doesn’t mean I stopped practicing.” He said, allowing himself a shit eating grin. He’d been doing the exercises every day after his warm up, running through them on his own while Noah teased him. 

They ran through all the basics and Adam was impressed each time. It made something burn in Ronan’s stomach, pride mixed with something else. 

“We can move onto harder things now.” Adam said once they finished. “Leaps and jumps. Things that will help you be lighter on your feet.” 

“When do I learn the toe thing?” Ronan asked, trying to go up on his toes and stumbling- right into Adam’s outstretched arms. 

“Not for a while.” Adam said with a smile. Ronan moved back a beat too late. “But we’ll keep trying. Let’s work on a saute.” 

Turns out, a saute was similar to a jump squat. Ronan could do that, though without any of the flow Adam had.

“Ballet is about landing silently.” Adam chided as Ronan landed with a thump again. “Watch me.” Adam leapt into the air, landing effortlessly.

“Yea, yea, you’re like a leaf on the wind. Boxing is about hitting hard and fast.” Ronan danced around Adam, throwing some fake punches at the other man. 

He expected Adam to shake his head and tell him to focus but instead he watched, clearly interested. “Will you teach me?”

Ronan came to a full stop, staring at Adam. He’d never shown any interest in boxing before. “Teach you how to box?”

“Or just to throw a punch.” Adam shrugged. “It seems like a useful thing to know.” 

The smart part of Ronan told him to say no, that this would mean touching Adam, getting close, but when it came to Adam, Ronan had already learned that he wasn’t very smart. 

“Give me your hand.” He directed, holding up his palm. 

Adam stepped in, quietly as always, and placed his hand in Ronan’s. Adam’s hand was warm in his, his fingers were so much longer than Ronan’s, tapered and perfect. Ronan forced himself not to focus on that.

“This is how you make a fist.” He explained, curling Adam’s fingers in and putting his thumb over them. “Thumb goes on the outside. Never in. You’ll break it.” Adam nodded solemnly. 

“When you punch,” He flipped Adam’s hand over, running his thumb over Adam’s knuckles. “You want to hit with your first two knuckles. To do that you need to tilt your wrist.” He held up a hand, showing Adam how his punch should land. 

“Step in when you punch. You want your weight behind it.” 

Ronan dropped Adam’s hand, stepping back. He’d spent weeks telling Adam not to touch him and now he’d broken his own rule. He waited for the regret to fill him but none came. Instead, he could only think about how much he wanted to take Adam’s hand again.

“Come on, let’s see you in action.” He forced himself to walk over to the bag, squaring his shoulders and showing Adam how to throw a punch. 

“Now you.” Ronan moved behind the bag, holding it. 

Adam threw a punch, barely grazing the bag. It lacked any real conviction and his eyes were on Ronan the whole time. 

“I’m glad you’re terrible at something.” Ronan said with a grin. 

“Fuck you.” Adam replied without any heat. He was smiling too. “Show me again.” 

Ronan stepped out, throwing another slow motion punch before resuming his spot. Again, Adam punched poorly. 

“Keep your shoulders square.” He said, stepping behind Adam, one hand on Adam’s shoulders and the other on his arm. “Pull back and,” He led Adam’s hand in, his knuckles connecting with the bag. “Pow.” 

Adam turned to look at him. “Pow? Are you in a comic book?”

“Maybe.” Ronan was still draped around him, reluctant to move back. “Try again.” He moved his hands back to Adam’s shoulders, holding them in place as Adam punched again. “That was better.” Ronan said generously. “You managed to hit the bag at least.” 

They practiced for a while. Adam seemed to do better when Ronan was guiding him and he couldn’t bring himself to object. They went over punches, jabs and uppercuts before Adam decided he was done. 

“I’ll leave the boxing to you.” Adam said, looking down at his red knuckles. 

“Good idea.” The two smiled at each other and Ronan realized how late it had gotten. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon. 

“I should get home. Shower. Eat something.” Ronan said, rubbing a hand behind his neck. He’d taken off his wraps while practicing with Adam and his knuckles were raw and bloodied. He was sure Adam had noticed but the man hadn’t said anything, which he appreciated.

“Same. I have more tuna waiting for me at home.”

He made a face and Adam shrugged as if to say ‘that’s life’. Before Ronan knew what he was doing, his mouth had opened and he was saying, “Come over. I owe you dinner anyway.” 

Adam’s eyebrow quirked up. “Are you sure? Earlier today you were avoiding me like I was a loan shark.” 

Ronan wasn’t sure. Not at all. But he nodded. “Yea, it won’t be fancy but it’s sure as fuck better than tuna.”

“Dunno. I really like tuna.” Adam replied with a small smile. 

Ronan shook his head, leaving to shower. Twenty minutes later, they were each getting out of their cars in Ronan’s driveway and Adam was shaking his head.

“You live in a house. A nice house.” Adam said, looking around at his restored tutor.

“I guess.” Ronan felt awkward about it, especially knowing where Adam lived. It felt like he was shoving his home in Adam’s face. He should have said something before now but there hadn’t been a reason to. “It wasn’t nice. It was actually a shithole but- I’m a handyman. I fixed it.”

“I see that.” Adam was still gaping at the house. Ronan walked to the front door, unlocking it as he tried to explain. 

“My dad was rich.” He paused. “-ish. He left my brothers and me a decent amount of money. My oldest brother invested his. My younger brother bought an ice cream truck. I restored this house.” That was true enough. He didn’t need to explain where his dad had gotten the money or why Ronan had decided that pouring his into a house was the safest option. 

“I have a lot of questions.” Adam said, marvelling at the entryway. Ronan watched him, nervous. This house was his pride and joy. It was the only thing in his life he was proud of, he’d spent many hours painstakingly restoring it to its former glory. If Adam didn’t like it, it would be like a bullet to the heart. 

“It’s not done.” Ronan didn’t ask what his questions were. He didn’t want to know. “I started on the main floor and I’m working up.”

“I want a tour.” Adam said, running a hand over his staircase. Ronan had done all of the woodwork himself, including the intricate details that were carved into it, vines and flowers that flowed over the wood, reminding Ronan that spring would always return. Watching Adam’s finger tips trace his carvings felt incredibly intimate and Ronan couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Fine.” Ronan hadn’t given anyone a tour in a long time. He didn’t invite new people over. “Let me check on dinner first.” 

Adam followed him to the kitchen, stopping to admire the little details and poking his head into every room. Normally, Ronan would hate it but with Adam, it was different. He wanted Adam to see everything, to tell him exactly why Ronan had made every choice. Ronan had poured himself into this house. He could only hope Adam liked what he saw. 

“That’s original.” He said, pointing to the molding in the living room, visible from the kitchen island. “I stripped and varnished it. The last people painted it pea green.” He snorted, shaking his head.

“Idiots.” Adam agreed, a smiling curling on his lips.

“Exactly.” Ronan went to the slow cooker in the corner while Adam pulled up a stool, watching from his perch. 

“It smells amazing.” 

“It’s just stew.” Ronan grabbed two spoons, dipping them both in and handing one to Adam. Then, he forced himself to pay attention to how it tasted instead of watching Adam eat his.

“It’s really good.” 

“It needs more salt.” Ronan decided as he added the peas, giving his shaker three hearty shakes. “I’ll give you a tour while they heat.” 

Adam nodded, handing back his spoon. They started in the basement, where Ronan had a studio set up.

“When you said handyman, I thought you hung doors and like, fixed shingles.” Adam said, his hand drifting over Ronan’s electric saw and wood turner. 

“I do that too.” He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Adam looked around, asking what every machine was. He explained, which led to more questions. They were in the basement for nearly thirty minutes and Adam still wasn’t done. Ronan had never had anyone be so interested in his work, most people only tried to get advice out of him, they didn’t want the why behind it, only the fix. 

“Ronan, you are a man of mystery.” Adam said as they went back upstairs. 

“Hardly.” He said, grabbing them each a bowl and a hunk of bread. “Here. Sit.” He gestured to the breakfast bar that he ate most of his meals. Where a kitchen table would normally be was his punching bag, a small speed bag off to the side. When he’d moved in, he hadn’t foreseen ever needing a dining room. Now was the first time he regretted it because it meant that he and Adam sitting next to each other, thighs nearly pressed together.

“Fuck, you can cook.” Adam groaned, his mouth full. “I figured you were exaggerating but this is amazing.” 

Ronan ripped off a paper towel and tossed it to him. “Don’t be gross.” 

Adam smiled, wiping his mouth and Ronan found himself smiling back. He liked how well Adam fit in his home. Usually other people felt like an intrusion, too loud against the quiet of the woods, but not Adam. His bright red shirt was contrasted against the blue wall, framing him like expensive art. 

“How did you get into dance?” He asked, needing Adam to talk so he wouldn’t notice Ronan’s blatant staring. 

“Ballet.” Adam straightened. He was already done with his stew. Ronan stood to grab another bowl while Adam talked. “My parents didn’t have a lot of money but my mom was in dance when she was a kid and pushed me into it. I got beat up a lot.” Adam paused as Ronan pushed the bowl in front of him. “A lot of them looked like you.”

“Yea, bullies stole my look.” 

Adam nodded and continued, shredding his bread into his stew. “Eventually, they got bored and I got good. Then I got better. Eventually, I was the best. I got a scholarship for college and majored in business. I opened my own studio as soon as I could.” He shrugged. “That’s it. It’s not that interesting.” 

“It’s very interesting.” Ronan said, feeling like he needed to defend Adam from himself. 

Adam ignored him, taking a bite of his stew then asking, “What about you? Where did the boxing obsession come from?”

“My dad made us learn as kids. I was the only one who stuck with it.” The truth was more complicated but Adam didn’t need to know that. Adam didn’t ask any follow up questions and Ronan appreciated it. He always seemed to know when to leave things be. 

“Can I see the rest of the house?” Adam asked once he finished his second bowl. 

Ronan nodded, leading him through the living room then upstairs, explaining everything he’d updated. Adam seemed genuinely interested, asking questions and follow ups about every space. 

Then they reached Ronan’s bedroom.

“Wow, you have a view.” Adam said, stepping inside and going to the small balcony Ronan had installed. His house overlooked the woods and he’d knocked out one of the walls in his room so he had a full view of them. It was his favorite room in the house because of that. He loved being able to bring his coffee to the balcony and have it outside, listening to the birds. 

“It helps me wake up early.” He said, moving next to Adam. It felt strange to have someone else in his room, his sanctuary. 

Adam turned, looking at the rest of his room. It was what Ronan thought a master bedroom should be, big closets and skylights, complete with its own small bathroom. “I would have never expected this. I assumed you slept on a futon.”

“That shit is bad for your back.” He mumbled, noticing how Adam’s eyes strayed to his king bed. “I like to sprawl out when I sleep.” Ronan added, not sure why he said it.

Adam looked back at him. He was close, too close. Ronan could have counted his freckles. He didn’t step back. 

“I bet.” Adam said, his voice nearly a whisper. Something about how he said it made Ronan burn. Adam’s eyes flicked right and Ronan realized that his hand was halfway to Adam’s face, about to cup his cheek without even knowing it. 

He was about to drop it but Adam grabbed his hand, bringing it back up. “You can touch me.” Adam said. “I won’t break.” It was a promise of sorts, something that meant more than the words alone. 

“I might.” He replied gruffly. His fingertips touched Adam’s skin and Ronan couldn’t breathe. Neither of them moved, both kept their eyes on the other, waiting. 

Whatever was happening, or could have happened, was interrupted as Ronan’s phone rang, causing both of them to leap back like they’d been caught. 

Ronan reached into his pocket, glancing at the caller. ‘Human Oatmeal’.

“It’s my brother.” He explained. “I should take this.” That was true. He should. Normally though, he’d ignore it, letting it ring through to voicemail, but this felt like a sign. 

Adam nodded and Ronan pressed ‘answer’. “What do you want?” He asked, unable to tear his eyes from Adam. The other man was clearly waiting for Ronan to make the next move.

“Oh, you actually picked up.” Declan didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “I wanted to talk about Matthew’s birthday party. Do we really need to bring him to the zoo? He’s turning 23. Shouldn’t we take him somewhere more appropriate? Golf maybe? Or to a pub?” 

Ronan grunted. The noise was enough to keep Declan talking as Adam stepped back. ‘I’m going to go’ he mouthed, throwing a thumb towards the door. Ronan nodded, his eyes following Adam’s back until he disappeared. As Declan talked, he could hear Adam pulling on his shoes and the front door opening. Ronan counted to thirty then exhaled. His house had never felt so empty. But that was what he wanted, he reminded himself. That was what was safe. Adam wasn’t safe. If Ronan had learned anything in his life, it was that anything he wanted that badly could only end poorly. 

Eventually, he realized that Declan had stopped talking, waiting for him to reply. “Let Mathew have his damn birthday at the zoo, Declan. It’s what he wants.” He said, unconcerned about whatever other options Declan had listed. “I need to go. I’ll see you next Saturday.” 

“Ronan-” His older brother started but he had already hung up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this chap took longer than intended but I got really carried away imagining Ronan's house...   
> I hope everyone is staying safe <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam landed quietly and stared at him. “Ronan, shit- did we have an appointment? I don’t think I had anything written down.” He started to move towards the office, where his appointment book probably was. Because of course Adam would be a grown man with an appointment book. 
> 
> Ronan shook his head, trying to collect himself. “I came to clean your pipes.” He flushed. Adam’s outfit was far too tight for him to be thinking straight. “Shit, I meant, fix the place up. You know, all those projects we talked about.” He tried his hardest not to stammer as he spoke, looking anywhere but at Adam’s heaving chest. 
> 
> Adam laughed, walking over to him. “It’s not pipes. More lights, a loose tile or two.” He looked Ronan over carefully. “Should you be doing this tonight? Shouldn’t you be resting?” Adam knew what tomorrow was. It was probably marked in his planner. Circled in red. They hadn’t talked about what it meant if Ronan didn’t make it. Neither seemed eager to bring it up. 
> 
> “I can’t. I can’t rest. I need to do-” He flexed his hands, forming them into fists before unclenching. “Something.” 

The next few weeks flew by. Something had changed between them since the day in Ronan’s room. Adam’s hand would linger on Ronan’s hip as they practiced or Ronan would need to reach for him for support and not break the connection until he had to. It was foolish and stupid but Ronan couldn’t stop himself. Since that day, since that stupid phone call, he had been aching to touch Adam, even if it was something as simple as poking Adam’s side to make him scowl. 

But he’d managed not to take it too far. Yet. The qualifier was looming too large in his mind to completely focus on Adam. He’d been training hard, at the gym whenever he wasn’t working. His calluses had calluses and he felt ready. Or at least he hoped he was. Ronan hadn’t let himself think too much about what happened if he wasn’t. The never quite disappearing pit in his stomach was reminder enough. 

Now though, it was the night before the qualifter and Samuel had banned him from the gym, saying that Ronan needed a night off before he hurt himself. Ronan had tried to sneak back in but even Noah was in on it, he’d stopped Ronan from entering. 

The betrayal meant that Ronan had been pacing his living room for the last hour, trying to think about anything besides tomorrow morning. It wasn’t working. If he wasn’t thinking about boxing, he was thinking about Adam. His two passions. He tried not to think about Adam’s hands on him, how it had felt as they’d worked. He’d finally managed to do a successful leap the other day and Adam had beamed at him. Ronan had thought he was going to explode. 

That was when it finally came to him. Adam’s studio. He hadn’t had time to do any work on it yet but he was sure that there was something he could fix tonight. Anything to take his mind off everything else. 

Relieved to finally have something to do Ronan packed up his tools and drove to the studio. He knew Adam’s classes ended at 7 and it was 7:30 so he assumed that Adam would have gone and he would have the place to himself.

Except when he arrived Adam was still there, dancing on his own. He was wearing a tank top and long, fitted pants, the outfit accentuating his muscles and lean body. Ronan forgot to announce himself, too taken in by Adam’s movements. He’d seen the man dance before, briefly, but it was nothing like this. Adam was clearly following some routine in his mind, leaping and spinning as he followed a map only he could see. It was aggressively beautiful and Ronan was enchanted. He stared for several minutes before he remembered that Adam wasn’t his to watch and cleared his throat, hoping not to startle the man too much. 

Adam landed quietly and stared at him. “Ronan, shit- did we have an appointment? I don’t think I had anything written down.” He started to move towards the office, where his appointment book probably was. Because of course Adam would be a grown man with an appointment book. 

Ronan shook his head, trying to collect himself. “I came to clean your pipes.” He flushed. Adam’s outfit was far too tight for him to be thinking straight. “Shit, I meant, fix the place up. You know, all those projects we talked about.” He tried his hardest not to stammer as he spoke, looking anywhere but at Adam’s heaving chest. 

Adam laughed, walking over to him. “It’s not pipes. More lights, a loose tile or two.” He looked Ronan over carefully. “Should you be doing this tonight? Shouldn’t you be resting?” Adam knew what tomorrow was. It was probably marked in his planner. Circled in red. They hadn’t talked about what it meant if Ronan didn’t make it. Neither seemed eager to bring it up. 

“I can’t. I can’t rest. I need to do-” He flexed his hands, forming them into fists before unclenching. “Something.” 

Ronan held his breath, meeting Adam’s eyes. He sent up a silent prayer that Adam would understand, that he wouldn’t make Ronan explain why he couldn’t sit still. 

Thankfully Adam seemed to understand. He nodded. “Let me show you what needs to be done.” 

Ronan followed Adam around, listening as he pointed out small issues that needed to be fixed. There were a lot of them, easily a couple weeks’ worth of work. Ronan wondered how long it had been like that and if Adam would let him fix everything. 

“Is it okay if I keep practicing while you work?” Adam asked once he finished his explanation. 

“It’s your studio,” he replied, deciding to start with the faulty light. It was one of the easiest things to fix and it was the furthest from where Adam would be. Win win. 

The two went to work. Ronan could see Adam out of the corner of his eye, leaping and running across the floor. The light took him nearly twenty minutes to fix, the longest it had taken him since he was in school. Tearing his eyes away he went to the next task but whenever he blinked all he saw was Adam’s legs, burned onto his eyelids. It was distracting as hell but it was still better than pacing in his house. 

About an hour later Adam walked over to him. Ronan was elbow deep in his sink, trying to clean a clog. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Adam said, leaning against the wall. He was sweating and Ronan forced himself to look at the sink and not the single drop of sweat making its way slowly down Adam’s throat. 

“Someone does,” he replied, pulling the snake up. “I don’t know how any water gets through this.” He turnedand showed Adam what he’d pulled up. 

Adam wrinkled his nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“It was in your sink,” he said, walking to the trash. 

Adam waited until Ronan was done and had washed his hands. “I need a favor.” 

“Isn’t this a favor?” Ronan asked, already knowing he’d say yes to whatever Adam asked. 

“Yes. Another one.” Adam waited until Ronan nodded and continued. “I haven’t been able to practice catches in forever. I never have a partner.”

“Catches?” Ronan asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I jump and you catch me.” 

Ronan exhaled, leaning on the sink. This was not going to end well. It was a terrible idea. There was no way he could do this. 

“I’ll drop you,” he said. It was an excuse but a valid one. Ronan didn’t know how to do this, he’d never caught anyone before. 

“You won’t. You’re strong. And the catch is as much on me as you.” 

“Adam.” Ronan shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or me.” 

“You won’t. I promise. I’ll put down a mat.” Adam stepped in, laying a hand on Ronan’s forearm. “Please?” 

He looked down at Adam’s hand, warm against his skin. Ronan swore the man knew the effect this had on him, how it rendered him utterly incapable of saying no. 

“Fine. But you have to explain how. With a lot of detail.”

The smile on Adam’s face made it worth it. He watched as Adam pulled mats over then positioned Ronan in front of them. 

“I’m going to do a few moves and then I’ll leap. You should stand with your feet apart, slightly crouched. When I leap you need to grab me-” Adam took his hands and place them on his hips, thumbs up. “And then lift. Use your biceps not your forearms. They’re stronger.”

“You’re insane,” Ronan said, trying not to think about how Adam had noticed his arms. 

“Maybe.” Adam stepped back, still smiling. “Are you ready?” 

He nodded. Adam pushed start on the ancient cd player and ballet music began. Nothing Ronan recognized but he liked it. It was beautiful, slow but with occasional upbeat bursts. 

Adam started dancing and Ronan openly stared. He was allowed to watch and he didn’t want to miss a second of it. Ronan knew that Adam was elegant but this was something else entirely. Adam flowed with the music, like his body was part of it, melding with the melody. 

“I’m going to jump.” Adam warned after a few minutes, glancing over his shoulder at Ronan. He could only nod, preparing as Adam leapt towards him. He braced himself, hands ready to catch Adam. 

The man leapt at him and Ronan’s fingers curled around Adam’s hips and-

And he immediately dropped him back to the floor. His grip wasn’t good enough and Adam slipped out of his hands, sliding to the ground. He landed quietly and Ronan didn’t let him go until he was sure Adam was okay. 

“See? You’re strong,” Adam said, running a finger over Ronan’s arm. “You nearly did it.”

It took Ronan a second to respond because his brain had short circuited. 

“So we’ll try again?” Adam asked, wiping the sweat. 

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Adam, this won’t work. I’m a boxer, the only thing I lift is weights.” 

Adam put a hand on his shoulder. “I believe in you.” Ronan scowled and Adam added, “Besides you can’t give up after one try. You should know that better than anyone.” 

He hated how well Adam knew him. It wasn’t fair. 

Ronan nodded and Adam went back to the other side of the room. This time he danced for a much shorter time before telling Ronan it was time for the catch. 

Ronan dropped lower, focusing on Adam’s hips and nothing else. It wasn’t nearly as difficult as it should have been. When Adam leapt Ronan caught him, holding him tighter than last time. He stumbled back one, two steps as he tried to raise the other man. 

It didn’t work. His heel caught on the mat and he fell back, taking Adam with him. Ronan landed on the mat with a ‘oof!’ and Adam landed beside him, wincing as his back hit the ground. Ronan sat up, shaking his head. “This was a bad idea. I’m not meant to catch things. Ask my brother, I fucking sucked at baseball.” 

“Ronan-” Adam started, his voice soft and gentle.

“I know, I’m a terrible partner.”

Adam smiled, shaking his head. “You really aren’t. You make a great partner.” 

Ronan was grateful that most of the lights were out. He wasn’t sure what his face did but he was sure that his expression was embarrassing. “I still don’t think I can do this.”

“One more try?” Adam asked, standing with perfect grace. “Then we can be done. Promise.”

Ronan’s head nodded without his permission. He watched as Adam moved back again, putting less distance between them this time. He didn’t dance this time instead he ran, like he was running towards something important, something bigger than him, and leapt into his arms. 

Ronan didn’t have time to second guess himself. He caught Adam, his hips fitting perfectly into Ronan’s hands and Ronan started to lift him, bringing Adam over his head. 

“Holy shit.” He stared up at Adam. 

“Holy shit,” Adam agreed, grinning down at him. The smile was Ronan’s undoing. He stumbled again, falling back onto the mats and taking Adam with him. They both landed with a grunt, Adam squarely on top of Ronan and Ronan’s hands still on his hips. 

“Shit are you okay?” Ronan asked, looking for any pain in Adam’s expression. Except he didn’t see anything like that. Instead he only saw- 

Lust. 

Adam’s eyes were on Ronan’s lips, half hooded with obvious desire. It made Ronan’s hands tighten on Adam’s hips. He realized that Adam’s shirt had ridden up and his thumbs were on Adam’s warm skin, resting right above his shorts. 

“I’m more than okay,” Adam said, grinding down. Even the slight action made Ronan see stars. 

Ronan knew he should get up- hell, he should leave and never come back to this place again because there was no way in hell he wouldn’t be turned on by the weird mix of sweat and floor wax for the rest of his damn life. 

But then Adam dipped his head, his lips nearly brushing Ronan’s. “Tell me not to.” Adam muttered. Ronan had to close his eyes, too overwhelmed by what was nearly happening. 

Adam continued and Ronan could feel the words against his own lips. “Tell me you don’t want this or that I’m imagining it or-”

Ronan tilted his head up, capturing Adam’s lips and effectively stopping whatever else he was going to say. Adam kissed him back immediately, slotting his lips against Ronan’s with an impatience that Ronan understood. He never wanted his mouth anywhere else, especially when Adam’s tongue pressed against his lips, breaking the seal and deepening the kiss. He would have stayed there and kissed Adam till morning but then Adam ground down again, making them both groan. He couldn’t stop himself from pushing a leg between Adam’s, arching up as Adam’s hips sought friction. Adam groaned into his mouth and Ronan was silently grateful that he didn’t come from just that. 

“Shit- can we go upstairs?” Adam asked, breaking the kiss and moving back. Ronan stared at him, Adam’s eyes had gone dark with lust and his lips were red and bruised. It was so sexy that all Ronan could do was stare. Then he laughed and Ronan was done for. He would have gone to the end of the world for Adam and that laugh. 

“I’m too old to be on the floor,” he said, explaining his laugh. “Besides I want to do this properly. God knows we’ve waited long enough.”

There, Ronan couldn’t argue. Adam stood and offered a hand to Ronan, pulling him up and into his arms. Adam took the opportunity to kiss his neck, nipping at Ronan’s pulse point. 

“Shit, Adam.” He gasped, keening in the other man. “If you do that this will be over embarrassingly fast.”

“Sexy,” Adam whispered into his skin. But he stopped, taking Ronan’s hand and pulling him up to the apartment. He led Ronan to the only room he hadn’t seen before. Like the rest of the apartment, the bedroom was undecorated, a bed on a plain metal frame. 

“We should have gone to my place.” Ronan muttered as Adam closed the door behind them.

“Next time,” Adam said, pausing like he was expecting Ronan to argue. But Ronan had no arguments. If this happened once he knew he would want it to happen again and again. When Ronan didn’t respond Adam smiled, moving in to kiss him again, his hand cupping Ronan’s face with equal parts fierceness and tenderness. Everything about Adam’s kiss said ‘ _ finally, finally, finally. _ ’ Ronan agreed, trying to express the same sentiment through his kiss. 

His tongue moved against Adam’s as he gripped the other man’s top. He wanted to pull it off but couldn’t bring himself to break the kiss. Adam solved the issue by pushing Ronan onto the bed and pulling off his shirt before crawling back on top of him, kissing him with more fervor. Ronan couldn’t help but buck up, trying to press against Adam however he could. There was so much need in Adam’s lips and hands, Ronan strove to match him beat for beat. His hands finally touched skin, warm and soft under Ronan’s insistent hands.

“Can we take this off?” Adam asked, sliding his hand down to the hem of Ronan’s shirt. He nodded, gasping as Adam’s palm pressed against his skin. It was so much and not enough. Slowly, Adam dragged his shirt up, fingers dancing over Ronan’s skin.

“Fuck,” Adam said once Ronan’s shirt was off and on the ground. He was sitting up on Ronan’s hips, staring down at him. 

“You’re one to talk,” Ronan said, his own hands roaming over Adam’s lean stomach and abs. Where Ronan was chiseled, his skin bruised and broken from too many fights, Adam was taut and lean. It was a contrast that Ronan loved. He could have stared at Adam all day, running his hands over the defined lines in his abs and back. How the hell they had made it this long without sleeping together escaped him. Ronan dipped his hand down, running his palm over the bulge in Adam’s pants and reveling in the sharp gasp he received. 

“Can I-?” he asked, slipping a finger under the band.

“You better.” Adam’s voice was husky and Ronan loved knowing that he’d done that. He pulled Adam’s pants down, staring at his perfect cock. Taking it in his hands earned him another gasp and a string of expletives. As Ronan stroked he thought about how it would feel in his mouth, in him. 

“Ronan-” Adam’s hand stilled his. “I’m going to come.”

“Already?” Ronan asked, grinning up at him as he stroked again, his thumb rubbing Adam’s slit.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Adam said with a frankness that Ronan still wasn’t used to.

“Me too,” He replied with an honesty that he usually kept hidden.

Adam smiled, dipping back down and kissing him again. This time his hand slipped down and cupped Ronan. Ronan couldn’t stop the strangled noise that escaped from him but the chuckle from Adam made him feel better. They both wanted this and a second later Adam was pulling Ronan’s pants and underwear off and diving down, kissing Ronan’s hips, thighs and then-

“Fuck!” Ronan threw his head back as Adam’s tongue swirled over him. He gripped the bed sheets, begging himself not to come there and then. Adam seemed to enjoy this reaction, humming as he pushed his mouth down, swallowing all of Ronan. It had been so long since anyone had had their mouth on Ronan and the last time hadn’t been like this, hadn’t been so clearly about him and his pleasure. Adam was in no rush, pulling back up until only the head of Ronan’s cock was in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the slit. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Adam- please fuck me.” 

Adam pulled off, looking up at him. “Music to my ears.” He slid off, going to a side table and grabbing lube and condoms. Ronan would have thought it was impossible but he got even harder as he watched Adam coat his long fingers in lube. Then Adam was pressing a finger into him, watching his reaction. 

“Fuck man. Your fucking fingers.” He said, grinding back on Adam’s finger as he pressed it in with annoying slowness.

Adam chuckled. “Eloquent as always.” He crooked his finger, unleashing a new string of swear words from him. His fingers were insistent but slow, opening Ronan up and ushering in new swear words whenever he added another. 

Soon Adam had three fingers in him. “I think you’re enjoying this too much,” Ronan said, seeing stars as Adam pressed a finger against his prostate. 

“Sue me. I like seeing you compliant for once,” Adam replied, bending down and kissing him again. Thankfully he also pulled his fingers out and Ronan heard a condom ripping then something else pressing against his hole. 

Adam slid in, kissing Ronan as he did. When he stopped Ronan felt so full he took a second to revel in it before wrapping his legs around him and demanding that Adam move. Adam drew back slowly, letting Ronan feel every inch of him before thrusting in. Already he knew he wouldn’t last. The combination of how long it had been and that it was Adam would be his undoing. 

As Adam thrust, Ronan grabbed one of his hands, doing what he’d wanted to do for months and putting them in his mouth, sucking on them. Adam’s eyes grew darker and for the first time he lost some control, starting to thrust harder. 

“God Ronan. You are impossible and sexy and-” He pulled his fingers out and kissed Ronan messily, both of them groaning. “Mine.” He finished, scraping his teeth down Ronan’s neck.

“Yours.” He agreed, his hands on Adam’s back, exploring the muscles and how they tensed as Adam moved. 

Another deep thrust made Ronan cry out and Adam’s hand snaked down, stroking Ronan. That was all it took for him to come, spilling over them both. Adam wasn’t far behind, burying himself in Ronan as he came.

Adam pulled out, falling next to Ronan on the bed. “Stay the night.” He said, turning his head to look at Ronan. 

“In your shitty bed?” he asked, reaching out and stroking Adam’s high cheekbone.

“In my shitty bed,” Adam confirmed. “But first we’ll take a shower in my shitty bathroom.” 

Ronan smiled. “It’s a deal Parrish.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Finally!" Every reader screams along with Adam lol   
> :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you planning to hit him or just dance?” A familiar voice called from the sidelines as their break started. Ronan knew who it was without even looking but still he looked over to see his ex, Kavinsky, leaning on the ropes and watching him, a toothpick between his teeth as he sneered. 
> 
> “Hey babe, bet you didn’t expect to see me.” K said, winking obnoxiously. 
> 
> “What are you doing here? You aren’t competing.” He bit back, trying to relax and focus. He knew K was trying to distract him. He couldn’t let that happen.
> 
> “I’m here to see my boy compete.” K motioned to Jeremy. “He’s good, huh?”
> 
> “He’s slow.” 
> 
> K laughed. It was slightly too loud and it made Ronan’s stomach curl.

Ronan woke up confused. His lower back hurt and the sheets smelled wrong. It took him several confusing seconds to remember where he was and what had happened. Once he did, he smiled slightly and turned, seeing that Adam was still there, sleeping peacefully beside him. He had never seen him look so at peace, so untroubled. Ronan reached out and stroked Adam’s cheek, feeling a surge of emotion. They hadn’t talked last night about what this meant, instead taking a shower and then falling asleep. Ronan knew what he wanted and it was Adam, fully and completely. He could only hope that Adam felt the same. 

Stretching, Ronan glanced over at the clock and nearly choked. It was already 8:30 and 

he had to check in to the qualifiers by 9. Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, Ronan dragged himself out of bed, pulling on his clothes as he went. Adam didn’t even stir when he stubbed his toe and swore loudly. 

Once he was dressed, he took a long look at Adam, debating whether to wake him. But he looked too peaceful to bother and Ronan was sure he needed the sleep. Instead Ronan went to the kitchen, quickly scrawling out an apology before slipping out the front door. 

He hurried to his car, trying not to think about last night. He’d wanted it for so long and now he had a taste of it. Knowing what it was like to touch and kiss Adam- there was no going back. Ronan had gotten good at holding things in, at not wanting too much, but he wanted Adam. He wanted to hold his hand and watch shitty movies with him. His carefully constructed dam had broken and there was no way to rebuild it. 

Ronan shook his head, hoping to rattle the thoughts free. Now wasn’t the time to think about those things. He needed to focus. This was the day he’d been working for for months. Everything led up to this and he couldn’t afford to be distracted, even by someone like Adam. 

He reached the building with minutes to spare, grabbing his spare clothes from the back seat. When he got in the building, he looked around, trying to figure out where to go.

“Finally!” Someone yelled behind him. “I was beginning to think you ran to Cuba.” Samuel appeared, looking both pissed and relieved that Ronan was there. “Here, I already checked you in. You need to go change your first fight is at 9:30.” He said, shoving a slip of paper into Ronan’s hand. 

“I-” He was going to argue, to say that he could have managed but he swallowed the words. “Thanks.” Ronan said instead, letting Samuel steer him towards the locker room.

“You can thank me by winning. Noah too, he’s been looking for you all morning.” They reached the locker rooms and stopped. Samuel put a hand on Ronan’s shoulder and spun him. “Are you okay? You seem off. You didn’t get drunk last night, right? We talked about that.”

Ronan shook his head. “I didn’t drink. And I’m fine.”

Samuel eyes him. “You sure? Anything you wanna tell me?” 

Ronan knew eventually he’d have to tell people, Samuel included. He’d long given up trying to keep secrets from the other man. But for now he wanted last night to belong to him and Adam. 

So he asked about the other main thing on his mind. “Is Kavinsky here?” 

Samuel hesitated, which was enough to answer his question. Then he shook his head. “Don’t worry about him, Ronan. You won’t run into him.” 

Somehow Ronan didn’t think that his luck was that good but he nodded, not wanting to argue. Instead, he threw a thumb to the locker rooms. “I’ll see you on the other side.” 

Samuel gave him a small smile and clapped him on the back. “Good luck.”

Ronan changed, coming out in his work out clothes with his number pinned to his back. By then, it was nearly time for his match to start so he went to his ring. His opponent was already there, running small laps back and forth. Ronan wished he had more time to warm up but all he could do was some jumping jacks and stretches as he sized up his competition. He looked new, younger than Ronan but hopefully that meant he was less experienced. As he tied his wraps then put his gloves on, he reviewed everything Adam had taught him- be light on his feet, agile, move like a butterfly, all that shit. He felt tightly wound, a bundle of pure nerves. So much was riding on this and Ronan couldn’t stand to think about what would happen if he didn’t do well. 

Ronan only had to win two matches to make it to the real competition. The losers went to a lower bracket and would need to do a third fight. In that they had to score enough points to move on. Ronan didn’t want to have to fight three times. He knew that he’d be tired by then, off his game. Better to win the first two and be done with it. Easier said than done but it was his best shot. 

The referee called them both in and explained the rules. Three one minute rounds, whoever had the most points at the end won. If one of them got knocked out, victory automatically went to the other person. Simple. Theoretically at least. Ronan had been doing this long enough to know that the fights were rarely as simple as the rules. 

The ref finished explaining and motioned for them to bump gloves. “I want a clean fight. Ronan?” He nodded. “Mark?” His opponent nodded, his eyes on Ronan. Ronan was sure that Mark was sizing him up and Ronan watched as he shot a cocky grin to his coach, clearly assuming that he could easily take Ronan. Good, Ronan liked the overconfident ones, they were easier to beat. 

The bell rang and Ronan quickly jabbed Mark in the nose, making him stumble back and earning himself a point. He grinned as Mark glared at him, shrugging. Ronan went to the balls of his feet, dancing a little and moving around to stay warm. 

Mark stepped in, throwing too much of his shoulder into his punch. Ronan easily sidestepped, hitting him with an uppercut as he did and scoring a second point. Ronan allowed himself another smile, already feeling better about this. 

The first round went quickly. By the time the bell rang again, Ronan had managed to score six points. On their break, Ronan glanced out into the crowd and saw Samuel and Noah, eagerly watching him. Noah threw him a thumbs up and Samuel gave him a head nod. 

Then they were back in for round two. Mark seemed to be a bit more cautious this time but Ronan had spotted his tells- how he shifted his weight and glanced in the direction he was about to punch. Ronan quickly scored three points again, going into round three with a solid lead. By round three, Mark was mostly trying to avoid him and Ronan only scored one point but still, it was enough. He was the winner. 

“Nice job!” Noah said, handing him a towel as he stepped out. 

“Your next opponent isn’t quite so green.” Samuel warned. 

Ronan brushed him off. “Let me have a victory, old man. Besides, I’m warmed up now. The next fight will be even easier.” He felt good, his blood was flowing and he felt awake. This was why he loved boxing, the rush of adrenaline and how it felt to be in the ring. There was nothing else like it. 

Fifteen minutes later and Ronan was eating his words. He was in the ring with a much bigger opponent named Jeremy. Ronan highly suspected he had cheated his way into this weight class. Jeremy towered over him, grinning as the ref again explained the rules. 

“I don’t need three rounds.” Jeremy said as he bumped Ronan’s glove. 

Ronan swallowed but refused to look scared. “I’m faster than you think.” 

“Not from what I’ve heard.” Jeremy said as he stepped back. 

Before Ronan could ask what that meant, the bell rang and round one started. In the other match, Ronan had been ready to strike, sure he could score some easy points. In this one, he knew he would mainly have to avoid Jeremy’s meaty hands. He was big but slow and Ronan focused on dancing around the ring, staying just out of reach. More than once, Jeremy almost grabbed him but Ronan leapt away. Every penny he’d paid Adam was worth it. By the end of round one, neither had scored any points. Ronan’s hope was to score one point at the end of round three. That was all he needed. One point. 

“Are you planning to hit him or just dance?” A familiar voice called from the sidelines as their break started. Ronan knew who it was without even looking but still he looked over to see his ex, Kavinsky, leaning on the ropes and watching him, a toothpick between his teeth as he sneered. 

“Hey babe, bet you didn’t expect to see me.” K said, winking obnoxiously. 

“What are you doing here? You aren’t competing.” He bit back, trying to relax and focus. He knew K was trying to distract him. He couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m here to see my boy compete.” K motioned to Jeremy. “He’s good, huh?”

“He’s slow.” 

K laughed. It was slightly too loud and it made Ronan’s stomach curl. K had always oozed cruelty and his laugh was no different. 

“He only needs one hit, Ronan. Remember that. Just one hit.” K said it with a too wide grin and Ronan turned away, paying attention to his match. He squared up again, glaring at Jeremy as the bell rang for round two. 

“K told me he knows you.” Jeremy said as they started their careful give and take. “That he knows you real well.”

“He did.” Ronan said, paying more attention to Jeremy’s feet than his words. 

“Said you’ve been doing this for years and still suck at it, that you should give up. Like your old man did.” 

Ronan’s head snapped up. He barely had time to register Jeremy’s grin before something that felt like a brick connected with his face and he fell, his back connecting with the floor. 

The ref started counting immediately. “One!” 

Ronan tried to sit up but his head swam as he did, protesting the movement.

“Two!”

“Ronan, get up! Come on! You can do it!” 

“Three!” 

“Fucker is down after one hit. Pathetic.”

He turned his head to glare at the comment but it made his vision swim. 

“Four!” 

“Ronan! You can do it!” 

The second voice was different. He looked over, squinting. Someone new was standing with Samuel and Noah. Someone tall and wispy, who stood with a certain elegance. 

“Five!”

_ Adam _ .

Ronan struggled to his feet, hearing both cheers and jeers from the sidelines. 

“You need a doctor, son?” The ref asked, eyeing him. 

“Ss fine.” He said, pushing away offers of help. Everything was foggy but he wasn’t going to quit. He raised his fists, facing Jeremy again. 

“Alright, we’ve got about twenty second left in this ring.” The ref said, starting the clock again. “And go!” 

“Idiot.” Jeremy mumbled. “Shoulda stayed down.”

This time Ronan didn’t bother to reply. He wasn’t going to play K’s game. He’d lost too many years doing that already. 

Jeremy tried to throw a few more punches but Ronan stepped out of the way. Ronan managed to get one hit in, at least putting him on the board. Round three was even worse. He was slow, he could feel it. Jeremy scored two more points and won, letting out an excited yell while Ronan stumbled out of the ring, letting Samuel catch him. 

Noah was quick to hand him water and a towel. “You okay?” Ronan could feel his concern. He moved to Ronan’s other side, letting Ronan lean on him. 

He nodded, slowly. “I mean I’ve been better but-”

“Once a loser always a loser.” K said, walking by him with Jeremy. “Fucking disappointment. You should have given up years ago.” 

“Don’t listen to him.” Samuel said, rubbing his shoulders. 

“I’ll see you at your next match.” K added. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,  _ babe _ .” He emphasized the last word and blew Ronan a kiss. It made him burn. 

He nearly ran into Adam as he walked away, glaring at him as he strode past. 

“What the hell is his problem?” Adam asked as he walked over. Then he looked at Ronan and frowned. “You need to see a nurse.”

Samuel nodded. “I think he’s right.”

Ronan shrugged, feeling too shitty to argue. 

“I’ll take him.” Adam offered, replacing Samual and putting an arm around his waist. “Come on.” 

“I can walk fine.” He said, leaning into Adam. 

“Maybe I just want to hold you.”

Ronan’s head hurt too much to figure out if that was a joke or not but the comment did remind him how he had left that morning. “Adam- about the note-” 

Adam glanced at him. “You get a pass. This once. Because of this.” He gestured around. “But next time I wake up in bed alone it better be because you’re making breakfast.” 

Ronan exhaled, relieved. “It’s a fucking deal. Thanks for coming.”

“I wasn’t going to miss seeing my moves in action.” He said, squeezing Ronan’s side gently. Ronan leaned into him a little more after that. 

Once they made it to the nurse’s station, Adam refused to leave, pulling up a chair and watching as the nurse examined him. 

“So who was that?” Adam asked as they were waiting for her to return with a cold pack. She didn’t seem to think it was a concussion, just a bad hit to the head and she’d cleared him to continue. Ronan had practically hugged her when she’d said it. 

“Who was who?” Ronan said, playing dumb. He knew who Adam was asking about but- fuck, he didn’t want to have to tell him, not now, when things were still so new between them. Adam didn’t deserve to get all of Ronan’s bagage dumped on him at once. 

“The guy at the match.” Adam replied, slightly annoyed at Ronan’s dodge. “He seemed to know a lot about you.” 

“He doesn’t know shit about me.” Ronan’s tone was slightly colder than he’d meant. Then the nurse returned and Adam didn’t ask again, instead watching as Ronan accepted the ice pack from the nurse and dry swallowed the pills she offered. 

“Come on,” Ronan stood. “I want to see when my next match is.”

Adam, thankfully, didn’t push further, instead standing up and letting Ronan lead him to the scoreboard. His stomach sank when he saw that Jeremy’s name had already been added to the ‘Advancing on’ column. Ronan’s name was still on the other side. He wasn’t out, not yet, but he wasn’t in either. He’d have to score enough points on his third match to make it in. It all came down to that. 

“Looks like you’re up after lunch.” Adam said, pointing to his name. “Against a Steve.” He turned to Ronan. “Let’s get some food. I’m assuming you didn’t eat this morning?”

Guilt jabbed at him. Ronan glanced at Adam, grateful that he seemed to be teasing and not mad. “I’ll pay.” Ronan offered.

“Obviously.”

He spent the next few hours with Adam, talking a little about the finer points of boxing but mostly about nothing. He didn’t ask about K again but Ronan knew the conversation wasn’t over. The lunch took Ronan’s mind off his next match, listening as Adam complained about a parent he was having trouble with. This was what dating someone was supposed to be like, listening to them talk about the details of their day, having them listen to him. Ronan had always wanted something like this. He knew he could never have it with K but with Adam, maybe. 

He wanted to ask Adam on a date, a proper one, but something stopped him. They’d slept together but it didn’t mean that Adam wanted more than that, that he wanted Ronan. 

“I’ll cheer you on from the sidelines.” Adam said as they walked to his next match. 

“You don’t have to stay, I know you don’t like boxing.”

Adam shrugged. “I like watching you. You’re far less heavy on your feet than you used to be.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan replied, without heat. Adam grinned at him before walking over to stand with Samuel and Noah. Noah gave him a ‘we need to talk about this’ eyebrow wiggle which Ronan was not about to think about now. Instead, he got into the ring and looked at his new opponent. The guy was about his size and age. Ronan watched him as he warmed up, looking for any hints of slowness or give-aways. 

The match started and Ronan quickly realized they were fairly evenly matched. Steve was nearly as fast as him and was able to dodge well. The first round flew by, both trying to move quick and score points, but neither did. They ended with 0-0. 

Ronan took the break to reevaluate. He had to score enough points to move on. There was no holding back, the next two minutes was all he had. 

“Boxers, ready,” The ref said, starting round two. This time, Ronan focused on being light on his feet, dancing around the ring and jabbing at Steve. His jabs were meant to throw Steve off and they worked. He scored two points in quick succession before Steve changed his style, using Ronan’s opening to throw uppercuts or quick jabs. He dodged as best he could but Steve still managed to score points. The score at the end of the round was four to two, Ronan’s lead. 

In round three, he was even more aggressive, dancing in and landing hit after hit. Steve hit him back but not nearly as much. It was a bold strategy but it paid off. Ronan won the match, eight to four. 

“Nice job.” Samuel said as he crawled out. “You won! And with four points!” 

“What now?” Adam asked. 

“We wait to see how everyone else did.” Four points was a good lead but Ronan wasn’t sure if it was enough. “I want to go to the scoreboard.” He said, taking his water. 

“Should we-” Noah asked and Ronan shook his head. He wanted to be alone. If he failed, if this wasn’t enough, he didn’t want anyone to be there when he broke down. 

Ronan stood in front of the board, shoulder to shoulder with the other competitors who were still waiting. The energy of the space was nervous, agitated, everyone muttering about how their match had gone and why weren’t the names up yet? 

Slowly, the scores came in and names started to move. There were only about twenty spots left and Ronan counted at least fifty people waiting. His odds weren’t great but he hoped they weren’t awful either. 

The refs moved a few names and then there were only ten spots left. Ronan held his breath, thinking about how much work he’d put into this, how much blood and sweat, everything he’d given up. 

Nine spots. 

He wondered what he’d do without boxing. Maybe he’d take up golf. Something completely different. 

Eight. 

He was fairly certain he’d hate golf. 

Spot seven was revealed. Ronan Lynch. It was his name. He’d done it.

Ronan stared at his name for several minutes, letting it sink in. Then a grin broke out on his face. It was real. His name wasn’t disappearing. He was moving on. In two months he’d be part of the final bout, the one where he stood to win fifty thousand dollars and the championship belt. He’d admired that belt for years, even kept a spot reserved in his house for it. And now he finally had a shot at it. 

Ronan turned to find his friends, knowing that they would be as excited as him. As he made his way past the others, some cheering, some scowling, he spotted K in the crowd. Ronan wanted to avoid him but the man was already moving towards him, cutting through the people like a snake in the grass.

“Congrats Ronan, all that training finally stuck, huh?”

“Fuck off.” He hissed, still looking for a glance of Noah or Adam. 

“Always had a way with words.” K looked at him, licked his lips. “Ya know, I could help you. Get you that same money with a lot less work.”

Ronan refused to meet his eyes. “I’m not interested.” He kept his voice as even as he could, knowing that K could smell fear or anger. 

“No? Think you’re too good to throw a match, Ronan? Too moral?”

“Leave me alone.” He started to walk away but K grabbed his arm, pulling him back and whispering in his ear. 

“I know you, Ronan. Better than anyone else. Someday you’ll come crawling back to me, begging for me to take you back. And I might just let you, if you grovel good enough.” Ronan tried to pull away but K’s grip tightened. “Don’t forget. I know what your dad did, I know your little secret. And I know that you’re just like him.” 

Ronan wanted to fight, wanted to tell K off but he couldn’t find the words, not when K was whispering horrible truths in his ear. It was a reminder of what could easily happen to him.

“Hey! Let him go.” Ronan’s head snapped up to see Adam striding towards them. 

“Oh, you find someone new to protect you?” K sneered, pushing Ronan’s arm away. His voice was still low enough that no one else could hear. “Cute. Does he know, Ronan? Does he know who you really are?”

Ronan took a step towards Adam, resisting the urge to fall into his arms. He turned to look back at K, glaring as best he could. “Leave me alone, asshole. I don’t want anything to do with you. Not anymore.” 

K threw his hands up, pretending to be innocent. “I always respect a man’s wishes,” he said, backing away. “You and your little boy toy can live happily ever after.” 

Behind him, Ronan felt Adam tense. Before Ronan could tell him to go fuck himself, K turned and left. Ronan felt himself slump, suddenly exhausted. All the joy from seeing his name had evaporated. 

“What the hell was that?” Adam asked, still watching K. 

“Nothing.” Ronan said automatically. 

“Ronan-” 

He glanced at Adam, seeing concern etched on his face. He knew that Adam wanted to help but telling him about K meant telling him everything. It could easily break them before they even started.

He swallowed. Adam deserved to know what he was getting into. “I’ll tell you later, I promise. Tonight.” 

Adam eyed him and nodded. “Fine. Samuel wants to celebrate. Said that I was supposed to make sure you showered and that he would meet us there and buy the first round.” Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ronan’s cheek. “Congratulations by the way, you did it.”

Ronan hoped he wasn’t as red as he felt but he also didn’t care. He grabbed Adam’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Thank you.” He said, kissing Adam’s knuckles. “For everything.” 

The conversation they were going to have later would be hard but in this moment, everything was perfect. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adam nod but he still didn’t speak. It was like he knew there was more. 
> 
> And there was. This was the harder part. 
> 
> Ronan inhaled sharply. “K knew my dad. He uh-” Ronan wet his lips, grateful he had the road to look at. He wasn’t sure if he could say this to Adam’s face. “They worked together.” 
> 
> “What does that mean? Wasn’t your dad a boxer?”
> 
> Ronan nodded. “It means-” Fuck he didn’t want to say this. He’d never told anyone. He hadn’t had to. Everyone in his life already knew. Declan knew and pretended that he didn’t. Samuel knew and pretended that Ronan didn’t. 
> 
> “He fixed fights for my dad. He lost fights on purpose. K would make the arrangements and they’d split the winnings.”

The four of them stayed out celebrating until late in the night. Noah took the opportunity to bombard Adam with questions. He had no concept of too personal and several times Ronan was ready to jump in and tell him to step off but before he had to, Adam managed to evade the question in a way that didn’t feel like a brush off. Ronan was impressed and he leaned in and told Adam as much, enjoying how Adam tilted his head to allow Ronan to whisper into his ear. 

“I’ve carefully crafted it over the years.” Adam replied, turning to look at Ronan. It left the two of them very close, Ronan would have barely had to move to claim Adam’s lips. 

As he was considering doing just that Samuel’s voice broke in. “I think it’s time for this old man to turn in.” He said. Ronan turned to watch him drain the last of his beer and look at them with a far too knowing look. “Ronan, I’ll see you at the gym in two days. Take tomorrow off to celebrate.” As he said it, Samuel glanced at Adam, making it clear how he thought Ronan would be celebrating. 

Ronan nodded. “Thanks. For everything.” Samuel didn’t acknowledge the comment, not that Ronan expected him to. As Samuel walked away Ronan turned to Adam. “Should we go too?” It was getting late and Ronan had seen Adam hiding several yawns. 

“Don’t be lame! Let’s hit another bar!” Noah interjected but Adam was already nodding. He stopped as he saw Noah though. 

“Or we can go to another place-” He started to say but Ronan shook his head. 

“We’re leaving Noah, enjoy the rest of your night.” Noah shrugged, calling them killjoys but Ronan didn’t care. Not when Adam was leaning against him as they walked, his head on Ronan’s shoulder. 

“Your place or mine?” Adam asked as they reached the car. Ronan couldn’t hide his smile at Adam’s (excellent) assumption that they would spend the evening together. 

“Mine, your bed sucks.” 

Adam chuckled but didn’t argue, falling into the passenger seat of Ronan’s car. They drove quickly for a few minutes but then Adam broke the silence by asking, “So, that K guy-”

Ronan’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He’d forgotten that this conversation was coming. He desperately wanted to put it off to another day but knew he owed Adam an explanation.

“He’s an ex.” Ronan chanced a glance at Adam as he said it, expecting- something. Judgment maybe? Disgust even. But Adam only nodded and told him to watch the road so Ronan forced himself to continue. 

“We dated for years. Well, dated may be the wrong word. We has sex when he got high.” That earned a flinch, for Ronan or the act itself he wasn’t sure. 

“I stayed until I couldn’t.” Ronan finished. That was really it. That was his relationship with K. He never asked Ronan to stay or called him to come over. It was Ronan’s fault that he stayed for so long, no one else’s. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adam nod but he still didn’t speak. It was like he knew there was more. 

And there was. This was the harder part. 

Ronan inhaled sharply. “K knew my dad. He uh-” Ronan wet his lips, grateful he had the road to look at. He wasn’t sure if he could say this to Adam’s face. “They worked together.” 

“What does that mean? Wasn’t your dad a boxer?”

Ronan nodded. “It means-” Fuck he didn’t want to say this. He’d never told anyone. He hadn’t had to. Everyone in his life already knew. Declan knew and pretended that he didn’t. Samuel knew and pretended that Ronan didn’t. 

“He fixed fights for my dad. He lost fights on purpose. K would make the arrangements and they’d split the winnings.” It hadn’t always been K but the man his dad had worked with for years left the game and his dad found K to do it for him. Then Ronan found K. The rest was history. 

Adam hissed and Ronan pressed down on the gas pedal, controlling what he could. At least he could make this ride end sooner. Then this conversation would be over.

And their relationship. Ronan was sure of that too. Whatever they had couldn’t survive this. Ronan’s dad had been a cheater- worse, he’d been a liar. He’d loved boxing more than anything except money but when he realized that he could earn money without working too hard he’d jumped on it and never looked back. Ronan later learned that he thought only suckers fought honestly, people too dumb to game the system.

Ronan remembered the day he’d found out. He and K had been involved for a few months. Even though he met K through his dad he’d never asked about exactly how the two of them knew each other. Ronan didn’t want to know. Maybe he'd suspected the reason, deep down. 

On that day, he’d gone home for a family dinner and had seen K’s car. Confused, he’d wandered upstairs. For some stupid reason he’d thought that K was there for him, that maybe he had finally come to a family dinner. 

Of course, he’d been wrong. Instead of finding K at the dinner table, laughing with Matthew, he’d found him and his dad in the study, huddled together over a piece of paper with next month’s fights. He’d heard his dad promising to take a dive in round three and watched as K handed him his winnings from the previous week. 

Ronan had left before he heard anything else, before the two of them had noticed him. He’d gone outside, sitting with the cows as he tried to process what he'd seen. It wasn't easy. Until that moment his dad had been his hero, the person he wanted to grow up to be. And that person had just disappeared before his eyes. It didn't make sense to him, that his dad could love the sport so much but also play a role in undermining it. 

Ronan later confronted K about it, demanding that he stop involving his dad. K had only laughed in his face, saying that his father was a big boy and could make his own decisions. Ronan had never brought it up to his dad. He'd stopped going to his fights, stopped talking to him. He was sure his dad had known the reason. 

In the present, Ronan turned into his driveway and realized that he’d said all of that out loud. He put the car in park and waited for Adam to ask him to take him home, to give Ronan some excuse about why they couldn’t see each other again. 

Instead he felt a hand on his arm. He looked over to see Adam wearing a loving, if worried, expression. “Let’s go inside, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Are you sure?” 

Adam nodded and unbuckled his seat belt. Then he noticed that Ronan hadn’t moved so he turned back towards him. “Ronan, I know better than anyone that who your family is doesn’t determine who you are. What your dad did, that was his decision. I’m not going to hold it against you.” 

“And K?” 

Adam nodded thoughtfully. “That was your decision. I won’t judge you for it.” A small smile appeared on his face. “Though I do think your taste in boyfriends has improved immensely.”

“Boyfriends?” The way Ronan’s voice cracked was embarrassing but the word made him feel sixteen again, complete with the nervous butterflies. “Is that what we are?” 

Adam nodded. “That’s what I thought. Is that okay?”

Ronan thought that this might be the best day of his life.

“Very.” He leaned in to kiss Adam, meaning for it to be a quick press of lips but Adam reached up and cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer. Adams’ tongue slid into his mouth and Ronan was done for. He’d never get over this, how good it felt to kiss Adam, how perfect all of this was. He’d do anything to be able to kiss Adam every day for the rest of his life. 

“Let’s go inside.” Adam said, breaking the kiss and smirking at him. “So we can finish celebrating.”

Ronan scrambled to comply. 

The two of them spent the next few days at his house, mostly in bed but occasionally out of it. The next morning Ronan made a point to wake up early and make Adam breakfast in bed. Adam chuckled when he brought in the tray and then pulled Ronan into bed, insisting that he properly thank Ronan for the meal. They didn’t leave again until lunch. Ronan quickly realized that he could get used to this, sitting next to Adam on the couch and watching a movie or teaching him cooking basics. He didn’t want it to end. 

Eventually though, it had to. Ronan had to start training again and Adam had classes to teach. Two days later, he dropped Adam off with a long kiss and then went to the gym, whistling as he changed into his work out clothes. 

“Didn’t know you could whistle.” Samuel said, appearing next to Ronan as he tied on his boxing gloves.

“There’s lots you don’t know about me.” 

Samuel gave a shrug that said ‘I doubt that’ and leaned against the wall, watching him. “That Adam is good for you.”

Ronan nodded. “He is.” 

“As long as he doesn’t make you soft.” Samuel said, clearly deciding that that was enough tender moments. “Let’s start with a run.”

For the next few hours Samuel put Ronan through his paces. Even though he had told Ronan to take the time off he seemed ready to punish Ronan for it now. 

Ronan couldn’t complain though. He felt better than he had in months. He’d done it, he’d finally made it into the boxing competition. He was finally good enough. Ronan didn’t let himself feel proud often but he did now.

“Looks like that tutu taught you well.” A voice drawled behind him. Ronan knew who it was before he even turned. 

“What are you doing here?” Samuel growled, walking over to K, who was standing in the doorway. “We don’t allow rats in the gym.”

K laughed coldly. “What are you going to do old man? Punch me? I doubt it. Besides-” He raised his eyes to look at Ronan. Ronan hated how it still felt like K could see through him. Ronan used to like it, like that it felt like K could see the worst in him and not care. Now though, Ronan hated it. He didn’t want K to know anything about him. “I’m here for him, not you.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you.” Samuel said, putting himself between the two of them.

“Stop.” Ronan stepped out of the ring before Samuel could say anything more. “Give me five minutes, I’ll talk to him.” He knew K wouldn’t leave until they talked and he didn’t want the man to linger for the next hour. 

Samuel frowned but stepped aside so they could go outside. His eyes followed them but he left once Ronan waved him away. 

“What do you want?” Ronan asked, turning to look at K. He looked rough, like always. The years of drugs and partying hadn’t caught up with him yet but Ronan was sure they would soon. Then K would look as awful on the outside as he was inside. 

“Can’t a guy visit his buddy?” K replied, lighting up a cigarette. 

“We’ve never been buddies.” Ronan watched him like someone would watch a deadly snake, waiting for him to strike. 

K shrugged, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Fuck buddies.” He exhaled the smoke. “You made it into the competition. Daddy dearest would be so proud.”

Ronan ignored the jab. “Did you come here to talk about my dad?” 

“Nah.” He took another drag. “I came here to talk about you. That prize money has to be pretty appealing. I know you haven’t made shit so far but if you win this you’ll get that cool ten thousand.” 

He shrugged. There wasn’t any point in saying more until K got to whatever the hell his point was. 

“Problem is that you aren’t gonna win. Let’s be honest Ronan, you’re middling at best. You hold back in the ring and everyone can see it. You’re not taking home the gold. But-” K paused and licked his lips. “You could still take home the ten g’s. Maybe even more.” 

Finally, it was clear he wanted. Ronan wasn’t surprised that he asked, only that it took so long. 

“I’m not throwing a fight for you.”

“Why? Because you’re so damn honorable?” K laughed coldly, shaking his head. “Please. Don’t be so moral, it’s fucking boring. I can make you more money through less work, who the hell turns that down?”

“Me.” Ronan glared at him but K didn’t care. He stamped out the cigarette under his boot then raised his chin to look Ronan in the eye.

“Like father , like son. He came around and so will you.” K said. “You know where to find me when you wise up.” With that he turned away, sauntering back to his car. 

“I’ll never need you K! I’ll never do that!” Ronan’s hands had curled into fists. He knew yelling after K wouldn’t do anything but he couldn’t let the other man have the last word. Ronan watched as K got in his car and drove away, glaring until the car turned the corner. Then he dragged himself back inside, going to one of the heavy bags and punching it furiously. 

He could feel Samuel’s eyes on his back but refused to look at him. Ronan didn’t need to hear Samuel’s opinion on K, he already knew it. Besides, it was himself that Ronan was mad at. He was furious that even now, K knew exactly how to get under his skin. Comparing Ronan to his dad always did the trick. 

_ What the hell was he thinking, _ Ronan asked himself as he punched the bag and pretended that it was a sneering face. He couldn’t actually expect Ronan to agree to his deal. He knew how Ronan felt about what his dad had done. Ronan would never sell out like that. He had honor, pride. Besides, he didn’t need the money. Fucking K and his damn words. 

He left soon after that, going back home to shower. He knew that he wasn’t going to get anything else done that day and that Samuel would yell at him for working out angry. He took a long shower, washing the day away before he drove back to Adam’s studio. They had plans to go out to dinner, Ronan was taking Adam to his favorite restaurant and was excited to share it with him. 

As Ronan reached the front door he paused, overhearing Adam talking to someone. Normally he wouldn’t eavesdrop but there was something in Adam’s tone that made him stay silent. Ronan snuck inside and stopped as he heard the cut off sentences, hiding around the corner so Adam couldn’t see him. 

“I know I owe money but-” 

“I need one more month. It’s been-”

“Look, things have been slow but I’ll pay you. I need this space. Can you-”

Ronan peered around the corner and saw Adam walking in tight circles around the room, clutching the phone in his hand. 

“Yes Mr. Smith, I understand what you’re saying but you need to understand that I’m trying.” A pause and Adam frowned. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine without my payment.” 

There was a longer pause and when Adam spoke again his voice was tight. “I can’t possibly owe that much. You need to recheck. Yes, I know I have the rent for the studio and my apartment but nine thousand? I’m only two months-” Another pause and the lines on Adam’s forehead deepened. “Four? I’m four months behind.” He inhaled sharply. “Give me until the end of the month. Please. Thank you.” 

Adam hung up and his head fell. Ronan could see his shoulders shaking. He debated rushing in to hold Adam, to help him, but knew Adam would hate that. He’d likely be embarrassed that Ronan had heard.

So Ronan swallowed the lump in his throat and opened the door again, letting it slam behind him and then called out for Adam. It took Adam only a second to appear, his face schooled into normalcy. 

“Finally! I’m starving.” Adam said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Ronan’s cheek. Ronan kissed him too, pushing down all of his questions while Adam left to get his coat. He had to do something, he decided, looking around the studio. Adam loved this place more than anything. Ronan couldn’t let him lose it. He wouldn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well oops. This was quite the gap between chaps and I'm sorry for that. The final 2 should be a little speedier. :)  
> Hope 2021 is treating everyone well!

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr! [tinyarmedtrex](https://tinyarmedtrex.tumblr.com/)  
> Maybe send me a pynch prompt or two?


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